


Mon coeur

by larrycaring



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, French Louis, Harry is Clueless, Just lots of fluff, M/M, Roommates, Young Adult Harry, Young Adult Louis, because I cherish French!Louis so much ok, louisandharry love each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-13 18:30:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16023545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larrycaring/pseuds/larrycaring
Summary: Five times Louis spoke in french and Harry thought he was probably insulted at (+ One time he realised he really wasn’t)





	Mon coeur

**Author's Note:**

> Has this concept ever been done in this Larry fandom? Idk, but here I am now.
> 
> French!Louis is just something I truly cherish, okay?
> 
> Good.
> 
> Enjoy, les amis!
> 
> Thank you [Liz](twitter.com/rogueskimo) for quickly beta'ing this! Love you.

**1.**

“Lou.”

“Mmh.”

“Lou…”

“Mmh.”

“Please.”

Louis sighed, perhaps for the hundredth time tonight. Harry was pretty sure he saw Louis roll his eyes at least three times, too. But never mind all of that. Harry was on a mission.

“Please, Lou.”

Louis let his head fall against the couch, staring at the ceiling. He honestly looked like he was screaming inside his head, asking God why this shit was happening to him.

The corner of Harry’s mouth lifted up. “Please,” he repeated, just for the hell of it.

The way Louis met his gaze and glared at him shouldn’t make Harry grin, but it did. “But we watched Titanic at least a million times,” Louis bursted out, opening his arms in utter exasperation.

It was their movie night, and Harry Styles took movie night very seriously. Titanic was iconic, all right? They just had to watch it. Nevermind that it was the eighth time. (Harry counted.)

“Please,” he pouted.

“Oh my God, all right, Harold,” Louis almost yelled, and Harry knew he wasn’t really pissed off, not when he noticed the way Louis fought to contain a smile.

Harry cheered, raising his arms in victory, and proceeded to launch the movie. Not without kissing Louis on the cheek before, of course. What? It was a very platonic thing to do to a roommate, wasn’t it?

“Tu as de la chance d’être mignon, [You’re lucky you’re cute,]” Louis mumbled, and God, Harry was shit at French - he had taken German at school to be able to talk to his cousins. So he frowned at Louis as he sat back down on the couch.

“What?” he asked, because he was pretty sure Louis was just loudly cursing Harry for making him watch the movie, again, and again.

“I said just launch the fucking movie, Harold,” Louis replied, sending another glare to Harry for good measure.

Harry knew he should act before Louis retracted.

He hit play and snuggled closer to Louis.

As usual, Louis cried at the ending scene.

**2.**

“How do you whisk?” Louis asked.

Harry closed the refrigerator with his hip, and his face snapped towards his roommate at the question. “You’re not serious, are you?”

Louis glared at him. “Dead serious.”

Harry busied himself with putting the ingredients on the table so that he wouldn’t start laughing. This boy was truly something else. Why did Harry accept him as his roommate again? “You just… Whisk.”

Louis turned to Harry, put a hand on his hip, and tilted his head. “Show me.” His fringe was falling over his eyes, and it made his glare even more menacing. At least, it would work, if Louis wasn’t so adorable. But Harry wasn’t going to say that.

Instead he complied Louis’ request, and started showing him. “What would you do without me, huh?” Seriously, Harry did all the cooking. Louis wouldn’t survive without him. “You’re lucky you have me, you know that right?” he continued to brag, but eh, he was only spilling the truth.

“C’est vrai, j'ai de la chance de t’avoir, [I do, I am lucky to have you,]” Louis said in an impeccable French, and he was frowning. Whether it was supposed to be another menacing scowl or because he was frowning in concentration as he watched Harry, it wasn’t clear.

Harry almost dropped the bowl under the force of his whisking movement, but it was all Louis’ fault. Damn him and his perfect French. “What?” he said dumbly.

Louis stopped his hand and grabbed the whisk from his hand. “Let me do it,” he said, and starting whisking.

Harry watched him, lips pursed. “You do know how to whisk.”

“Of course I do know how to whisk, you idiot,” Louis huffed, and there was a grin at the corner of his mouth, and Harry hated him.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

Harry really didn’t.

**3.**

“What do you think of this?” Harry asked, swirling around in a circle in front of Louis.

Louis watched him from where he was sprawled on the couch. They were lucky there weren’t a lot of people in the changing room, because Louis was occupying all the seats. (“We’ve been shopping for almost two hours, Harold, go dress up and I’ll be waiting for you over there,” Louis had said.)

“It’s all right,” Louis answered. “But I preferred the shirt you had on earlier.”

Harry swirled again, taking another look at himself in the mirror. He nodded. “I agree. The green colour was bringing my eyes out.”

“Oui, ça t’allait vraiment bien, [Yes, it really suited you,]” Louis said casually, as if he hadn’t been switching to French for the past few weeks without offering any translation for Harry.

Harry turned to face him once again, putting his hands on his hips. “Stop switching to french, especially if you’re gonna insult my choice of clothes.” No doubt that was what Louis was doing.

Louis gave him his infamous toothy grin. “How did you guess it?”

Harry couldn’t find anything better to reply, so he stuck his tongue out and turned around to change again.

Louis rolled his eyes, and stole a glance at Harry’s arse before the curtains closed. Then he smiled softly to himself.

**4.**

Harry was in a middle of giving a private concert to his nonexistent audience in the bathroom when Louis opened the door, standing beside Harry and staring at him in the mirror silently.

“What?” Harry asked through his chuckles, because Louis’ blasé expression was more than hilarious. “Not liking my voice?” he joked.

Louis narrowed his eyes and shrugged. “Tu as une belle voix, [You have a beautiful voice,]” he replied.

“Okay, what does that mean?” Harry inquired, turning accusatory eyes to Louis.

“I said, ‘Stop singing or else it’ll be raining tomorrow,” Louis replied with a fake smile, shrugging once again.

Harry leaned against the sink, tilting his head at Louis. “See, I don’t know shit in French, but your sentence was shorter than that.”

Louis raised one eyebrow, and this time there was a smirk on his face. “You’re the expert.” And he exited the room.

**5.**

“Here’s your tea, Lou,” Harry said, putting the tea down on the bedside table.

Louis lifted his head a little, only to glance at the teacup and then up at Harry. “Merci, mon coeur, [Thank you, sweetie (literally=thank you, my heart)]” he replied, with a raspy voice and his French still sounding like a melody to Harry’s hear.

Louis had fallen ill, and today had been particularly worse than ever. Who was Harry not to coddle his roommate?

Harry smiled softly, and ran a hand through Louis’ hair. “You’re welcome. Get some rest.”

Louis blinked sleepily at him, and gave what Harry thought was a nod.

When Harry slipped out of the room, he plopped down on their couch and took his phone. He understood that Louis thanked him in french, but he was curious about the other words. Surely it would be something nice, right? Louis has said, ‘mon’, which, and Harry was sure, meant “mon”. He typed on Google Translate what Louis said, or at least what Harry thought he heard. But ‘keur’ was automatically translated from Dutch, and the english translation was ‘association’. Harry highly doubted that was what Louis had said.

He pursed his lips in thought, and his fingers froze on his keyboard a few seconds before he opened another Google tab. He typed, ‘French pet names’ and his eyes quickly went through the list before he found it.

“Mon coeur = my heart”

If his heart skipped a beat, or a dozen of them, then no one had to know.

**+1 That One Time Harry Finally Got It, Without the Internet.**

“I told you it was worth it,” Louis said happily.

And yeah, Harry could only agree with Louis there.

It was around five in the morning, and Louis and Harry had only just gotten ‘home’ from a party. They weren’t buzzing with alcohol. They were perfectly sober. They just didn’t want to go to bed, and when Louis had suggested to go to some park to watch the sunrise… Well, Harry had obliged him.

And here they were.

He did not regret his decision.

The morning colours were breathtaking, they really were. It had been a long time since Harry had watched a sunrise, or even a sunset for that matter. The park was deserted — it was only him and Louis. It was almost like they were the only two people left on Earth.

“It’s beautiful,” he said simply, staring at the sun before it got too much.

He met Louis’ gaze, saw the sunshine itself in Louis. Harry didn’t really know when Louis had become his ray of sunshine. He couldn’t imagine his life without him now. Louis was vibrant, he was lively. And right now, he was glowing, he was beautiful.

“Tu es magnifique, [You are beautiful,]” Louis said then, softly, his blue eyes dancing between Harry’s.

And Harry? He understood then.

And when their lips met, he knew Louis knew he knew.

**Author's Note:**

> **Thank you for reading, hope you liked it.**
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> **Kudos and comments would be very much appreciated!**
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> **Go read my other fics. Of course, it's not an order. Just an advice. Please. Pretty please? :D**
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> **[Click[here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/larrycaring/pseuds/larrycaring/works) to see and read all my other works!]**
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> **Twitter:**  
> [@larrycaring](https://twitter.com/larrycaring)  
>  **Tumblr:mystupidamours**


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